“You haven’t said my name once,” he says quietly. “You’re trying to erase me.”
Because if I say your name, I’ll remember how it felt in the dark. How it tasted against my tongue. How it sounded when I whispered it into your skin.
“I’m not okay,” he says. “And I know you’re not either.”
My smile freezes. “You don’t know me at all,” I blurt out.
“Lie,” he repeats, stepping forward. “I know that you are amazing and brilliant and also the coolest fuckin’ person I know.”
I step away.
“I know that you need a hug.”
My eyes flick down to his arms, scan the width of his chest and the length of his hoodie, the one I wore for days. I want to crawl inside it and never come out.
“I know you deserve everything that is good in the world,” he says with a step forward.
I don’t move.
“And I know,” he says, voice shaking, “that you belong with me,” he says with finality.
Something tears across my ribcage. “Lie,” I murmur, voice cracking. “I deserve someone better.”
“Baby—” he tries, scrambling now, “Annie, I am so fuckin’ sorry. I know I hurt you. I know I broke something. I froze, and I didn’t believe you. I didn’t go after you, I didn’t defend you. The biggest mistakes I’ve ever made, I made within a ten-minute span.” His voice rises in volume and frustration. “But that’s a reflection ofme, not you. On my own damn insecurities. But I should’ve fuckin’ believed you, because you’re the only person in the entire world I trust with my entire fuckin’ life!” he explodes.
I freeze, and all of my organs collapse into a black hole that’s appeared in my belly.
“I love you,” he says. “I’m sorry, and I love you, and I’m here because I love you, and I love you so fuckin’ much I can’t fuckin’ breathe. I know you,” he continues, voice rough with feeling. “Iknow you’re hurting. I know that letting people in has always been dangerous for you. But Annie, honey…” He tears his hands through his hair. “Please. Let me back in. Loving someone is not a weakness.”
His words are a knife against my ribs. I don’t let them draw blood. “It’s the only one I have,” I inform him, and it’s the truth.
His gut caves in like I’ve kicked him. But he doesn’t stop.
“Loving you is the strongest thing I’ve ever done,” he says. “And I’m not gonna stop just because you’re scared.”
“Well, maybe you should,” I say, smiling like the Cheshire fucking Cat now. “I’m not scared. I’m busy. I have a manuscript due. I’m apartment hunting?—”
“Annie—”
“I mean it,” I tell him. “You’re a good guy. I wish you the best.”
“Fuck!” He scrubs his face, and all I want to do is to give him a hug. He rips off his hoodie and holds it out. “Then take this. For now.”
I stare at it as if it’s laced with explosives. I feel it, I feel the tears welling in the corners of my eyes and making my weakness a show.
He doesn’t move. Just stands there, holding it. Waiting. Hoping.
Something hot and dangerous rises in my throat. I clench my hands into tight fists. “I don’t need anything from you,” I finally whisper, voice shaking. “Not anymore.”
My knees buckle at the broken look in his eyes, the warm, sure, melted chocolate of them, the sun shining into them and making this whole situation seem like a silly, merry joke. It almost gets me to cave. Those eyes that held me safe, supported, secure. Until they didn’t.
He sets the hoodie down on the step like a peace offering. “Okay,” he says. “Then I’ll fight.”
“For what?”
“To get back in the force field.”
It takes a moment to answer, because I’m trying not to cry.I will not cry. Don’t you dare let him see you cry.I take one last look at him—the messy hair, the three moles on his handsome face, his broad chest. The devastation and sorrow in his eyes. “It’s not about that,” I manage. “It’s that maybeyoursisn’t strong enough forme.”
